


Let The Rain Fall

by deduction019



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-13 20:59:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deduction019/pseuds/deduction019
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John gets injected with something by a chemist turned killer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They're at it again. Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson are chasing another rabid killer.

He's killed three people already, injecting them with dangerous dosages of varied medications.

The first one was given an insane amount of morphine. The second one was given a crushed Xanax pill.

The third one was given a shot of rum with three Valium pills in it.

And they were chasing this man because Sherlock seen him on the street and decided to run after him, like always. No back up, no Lestrade, hell, no _flashlights_ even. 

It is when they are taking a corner in the dark alleyways of London that the killer turned chemist gets the upper hand and injects John with a needle far too long and a syringe far too big, filled to the brim with a clear liquid. He pushes the needle down to the hilt and then runs off in the opposite direction, Sherlock ahead of John. The killer disappears, and John wonders if he has just become the next victim. 

He begins to feel the effects immediately, which is _a bit not good._

The first sign is a searing pain in his chest.

"Sher..." he says, and then stumbles on his words. Jesus, this is working fast. He tries to figure out what it was but can't. His brain is fuzzing up, he can't think. 

He must have cried out right before the maniac injected him, because he hears footsteps coming toward him. They're followed by the swish of Sherlock's grand coat as he kneels over him. 

"John," he says, and all John can do by now is look up at him, blinking once. His chest still hurts. 

Sherlock gets out his phone and calls Lestrade, hissing desperately into the phone. John almost wants to smile when he hears Sherlock insult the Detective Inspector at the end of the call. He can't, though. After the phone call, he begins to seize up and shake. Sherlock holds him in his arms and murmurs things to him, but John hears nothing because the black spots entering his vision are scaring him too much. 

It shouldn't be happening this fast, but by god, it is. 

After a few more seconds of shaking violently, the black spots claim his vision and he's too weak to continue. He slumps in Sherlock's arms, not seeing anything, not feeling anything, _not able to do anything._

Not even able to feel pain. Not anymore. 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

_Obvious._

_  
_It was very obvious that the killer was a chemist by the name Frederick Williams.

Born to abusive parents, he had a knack for chemistry but a flawed psychological state. Of course, no one noticed until they found his DNA on the third (that they knew of) victim's shot glass. 

And it was very obvious that he would show up at Baker Street and go after the only two people who were close to catching him. 

Dashing through the streets and easily keeping up with the deadly chemist, Sherlock Holmes didn't think to bother that the man would be smart enough to fall behind and catch John, the only one Sherlock cared about. The only one who shouldn't have been left behind. 

He had a flawed psychological state, not a flawed intellectual one. 

If only he had heeded that before he got John. 

The doctor's cries turn his blood cold. 

He whips around, killer forgotten as he sprints to John. 

The man is on the ground. He's blinking. He's been injected with something. Of course, the killer would do something as terrifyingly typical as inject the doctor with a drug.

The irony sickens him.

The drug's already gotten to him. How in the world can a drug produce such a quick-

_Insulin._

_Shit, shit, shit._

_  
_Sherlock gets his phone out of his pocket, gloved hands shaking. He misdials twice before he finally gets through to Lestrade.

The Detective Inspector answers. 

"Hello."

_"Lestrade, get an ambulance here NOW. In the alleyway two blocks west of my flat."_

"What's happened?" 

_"Just get here and stop asking your stupid damn questions. John is hurt."_

"Be there in five. Will he last?" 

_"Shut up, git. Get here."_

_  
_Sherlock doesn't realize his voice is shaking and that tears are pooling in the corners of his eyes.

This can't happen. Not to John. Please... Not to  _John._

He hasn't even told him-

 

John starts shaking and writhing in his arms. He's going into shock. 

"No, dammit, John," he said, and wraps both arms around him, trying to calm him. 

John slumps in his arms when the chemist steps out of the darkness and whacks Sherlock across the head so soundly with a thick metal pipe that stars don't even enter his vision. 

He just blacks out. There's only one thing on his mind during the split second of white hot, searing pain. 

 

_John._


End file.
